


Retribution

by HRT



Category: Darkover series - Marion Zimmer Bradley
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, Boy's Love, Drugs, Horror, Jealousy, M/M, Pining, Rape, Romance, Sexual Tension, Underage Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-17
Updated: 2011-07-28
Packaged: 2017-10-21 12:15:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/225062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HRT/pseuds/HRT
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>COMPLETE.  The strange, twisted personality of Dyan Ardais has long overshadowed the lives of many Darkovans, including that of his foster-son, Danilo Syrtis.  One day, Lord Ardais finally becomes a problem too difficult for the Comyn to solve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't normally warn for what I write, but this time I feel Darkover fans could use the heads-up. I'd want a warning myself if I was reading this.
> 
> Parts of this story were originally intended for Legends of Darkover, but I decided they made too long a digression from the main plot. Nonetheless, I thought the material was good enough to develop into a separate work. In essense, this is a story-related-to-another-story-but-not-really, a genre I tend to specialize in.
> 
> Sorry for the weird font change and massive spacing. I can't get it changed so the chapters are consistent.

Retribution by HRT

 

Chapter 1

-oOo-

The boy and the quartet of Renunciates left the lowlands at the worst season, traveling through skeletal trees standing in pools of grey Autumn litter, the fields bare furrows of dirt. Now they inched along the thin, stoney trail through stands of pine, wafting their cold turpentine perfumes. As the hawk flew, Syrtis was a day's travel from Ardais. As the tired chervine plodded, it was more than three. The peaks of the Hellers were already covered with snow, though the passage to Ardais was still clear.

Beyond the last and highest pass was a long glacial valley running many miles, dotted with squat, stone-walled cottages. The glacial stones had been gathered hundreds of years ago to make the soil more tillable, and Castle Ardais was made of the same rough and lichened rock, colored in a palate of dull greens and greys. The Ardais family had a reputation as little more than jumped-up bandits, noted for the brutality of their men, and the previous lord had murdered his wife in a drunken rage.

Mountain wildflowers greeted Danilo with their blooms, but they made a poor gift. His host, Dom Dyan Ardais, was a man as abrasive as his stones. He was also more notorious than his father, the murderous drunk. Old Dom Kyril had been locked away for decades before his death. But Dyan, the present lord, was still free to do as he pleased. Even the Regent refused to confront him, for Danvan Hastur's policies were unpopular and he badly needed Dyan's support on the Council.

“Are you sure you want to continue, vai dom?” a worried Renunciate asked Danilo.

“I have little choice, Mestra,” he replied soberly.

The quartet of Renunciates had been chosen by Lord Hastur himself, and Danilo was aware they were considered the proper escorts for children, ladies, and men who were—not men. He was a few days past his sixteenth birthday, and by the laws of Darkover he was an adult. He'd gotten along well with the Renunciates, but he knew the Regent had intended an insult. Danilo refused to acknowledge it. He was damned if he would injure the feelings of his escorts just because the Regent wished to be spiteful. Last season, Lord Hastur had sent Danilo to Corandolis tower for the training of his laran, while Regis Hastur went to Arilinn. The two had protested their parting, but their complaints were met with suspicious looks and haughty silence. The Regent was an astute man who could read youthful hearts well.

Now Lord Hastur insisted on further separation from Regis, declaring that Danilo must spend the winter with his foster-father. As heir to the Domain he must be educated in his duties at Ardais. Regis protested vehemently, saying that Danilo could not possibly be sent into the hands of THAT MAN, but his protests were ignored. Danilo had to go.

A little crowd of housefolk was waiting for them on the steps of the castle. Even this small gathering embarrassed Danilo. It was too much bother, too many eyes for a boy who had no public dignity anymore. There was no redemption for that, though Lord Ardais had made what amends he could.

Danilo knew what a proper arrival should be. His chin should be up for eye contact, his manner confident before all and friendly to all.

He could scarcely gaze away from his chervine's withers.

If he could have run back to Syrtis, given the Domain to some else, he would have. His name was already disgraced. But still worse was to be a disgraced coward. He lifted his head and raised a hand to salute the housefolk. The last face he met was the one he'd been avoiding, though he knew its features well. The lean, harsh form of Dom Ardais was framed by the castle. A sullen boy about Danilo's age stood at his side. Instantly, Danilo knew what role the boy had on the castle's staff.

“Where d'ye think the lord picked this one up? How long d'ye think he'll last?” said a carrying voice from a window.

Lord Ardais gave a start and the crowd looked about to see who had spoken, but the speaker had already vanished. The boy beside Lord Ardais, his eyes already hostile, was now glowering at Danilo with venomous hate.

Danilo's spirits drooped.

-oOo-

He adjusted to Ardais slowly. Winter set in the next day, dropping a snowfall so heavy that two feet of it covered the ground, and the passes shut for the winter. The ring of the Hellers closed around him like an icy fist. He spent his first week under Dyan's roof almost sick with dread. But Danilo found that someone–possibly Kennard Alton or the Regent--had given orders than Danilo was never to be left alone on the estate. No matter where he went, there was always a servant to accompany him, or the housekeeper Marta, or Ruyvan, the coridom. Even at night a guard patrolled the corridors of the sleeping quarters in front of Danilo's door, his footfalls gradually lulling the frightened boy into sleep.

This protection was a huge relief, though Lord Ardais still scared him. He'd been avoiding his foster-father as much as possible, but the castle was deadly cold in winter and he kept running into the man by the few warm firesides. Most of the castle's rooms were shut for the winter to save fuel, Lord Ardais being a man sparing of wood, and he would speak to Danilo in a manner much too easy and assured, resting an arm along the mantel while Danilo tried to warm his freezing hands. Danilo had no earthly idea what to say to him. Lord Ardais, in contrast, never lacked for topics—or the desire to speak. He was a man who knew plenty of interesting stories and anecdotes, and he had had much experience of life. He seemed determined to impress Danilo with the latter fact. Though he displayed no improper speech or behavior towards Danilo, the lord's obvious wish to make a good impression made little headway--at first.

“It's not as if he can sleep with you,” said Garin Lanart spitefully. Garin was the boy who'd been standing by Lord Ardais' side the day Danilo had arrived. “Your whining would have the Comyn down on his head in a second. I don't know why he's showing off for you. Your looks aren't much. He must be bored at being shut-in, and your face is merely new.”

Danilo reddened and almost replied, but thought it unworthy. He didn't care that Garin was jealous. Garin had a kitchen boy named Carlo to worry about, and Danilo had heard rumors of a stable boy as well.

As for Danilo himself, he was already getting that particular look from people. Neither Dyan nor Danilo had ever explained the details of their quarrel in public, but this left too much to the imaginations of the castle's staff. First, there would be the peculiar expression once the listener realized he was talking to Lord Ardais’ adopted heir, then the dawning horror as Danilo tried to explain that it was a legitimate blood relationship since Dyan was his uncle--even on Darkover, with all its cousin marriages, uncle-nephew was too close–and the listener would start edging away, assuming the worst. Danilo was certain Dyan had heard some of the nastier rumors, but Lord Ardais showed no sign of being disturbed. Nonetheless, Danilo was stung by the gossip.

“Do not fret,” Lord Ardais told him one day. “I've heard the gossip all my life and it matters little if you are the one in charge. Command, manner, and power can turn it off like a water-tap.” He snapped his fingers. “You are my heir. Do not hesitate to punish those who offend you within these walls.”

“But I'm also a Syrtis,” Danilo replied. “My family reserves our anger for those who are dangerous to others, not merely an annoyance to ourselves.”

Dyan snorted. “Beware, then. From what I can tell, the Syrtis have many peculiar traditions, such as being disdainful of money, material possessions, and the proper care of one's estates.”

Danilo winced. Lord Ardais had been reviewing the Syrtis account books, and it was the only time Danilo had ever seen his foster-father blanch. In contrast, the Ardais were shrewd with their money, though thoroughly debauched.

During the short hours of day Danilo had lessons with a tutor, and to his dismay, Lord Ardais appointed himself instructor of music. Dyan was patient but demanding, and he soon thought enough of Danilo’s progress that he was requesting Danilo to sing and play for him in the evenings. Lord Ardais especially liked to hear love songs. Danilo, who thought he'd rather throw himself out a high window than sing a love song for the pleasure of Lord Ardais, found himself bound by his duties as a foster-son and the demands of etiquette, singing of tragic, tender, or beseeching love while Lord Ardais sat listening in the half-dark of a dying fire, his face averted and brooding.

Often, Danilo wondered how he'd ended up here, sworn to Regis Hastur but singing love songs to Dyan Ardais, and he marveled at the malice of fate. The only thing that kept the situation from utter insanity was the presence of Marta, the housekeeper. She enjoyed Danilo’s music as much as Dyan did, and the faint scrape of her knitting needles by the fire and soft words of approval, and most importantly her chaperonage, were the only things that kept Danilo from heading for the window at times. Garin used to join them in the evenings, but his off-beat finger-tappings and frequent vocal interjections infuriated Dyan so much that Lord Ardais banished the boy permanently from these listening sessions.

A few weeks spent at the castle finally convinced Danilo that he was indeed exempt from Dyan's licentiousness. However, the rest of the castle's staff was not. Nor did Lord Ardais consider it to be a breech of his oath to Danilo if his speech contained insinuations and innuendos about others. Once, at a fireside, Dyan had mentioned Regis. He'd said Regis' name in a leering sort of way, running his tongue over his lips.

Danilo flushed. He made no reply, thinking with vehemence, /If I ever have the sort of physical relationship with Regis that Dyan thinks I have–which I never would, because I would never, ever, foul what is so pure and unsullied about the feelings Regis and I have for each other that way–but if I ever did, we would not have anything like the disgusting relationship my uncle has with Garin. NEVER!/

Lord Ardais overheard the entire screed via laran, and nearly laughed his head off.

-oOo-

Once, Regis had managed to contact him. No letter could climb into the snowy mountains, and Danilo's laran could not extend so far. Neither could Regis'. Yet one night as Danilo lay in bed looking up at the hewn wooden rafters above his head, he heard a voice.

-Dani?-

The call was plaintive.

Danilo sat up. -Who? Regis? Is that you?-

-Yes! It worked!-

-What worked?-

-Don't tell Domna Callina. I've borrowed the circle's matrix.- The mental voice giggled.

-Regis! That's dangerous. Please don't get into trouble for me.-

-Too late, bredu. Remember Aldaran? How are you doing?-

Danilo wanted to laugh and cry, scold and embrace. His emotions were so strong that nothing could fight its way out of his mind for a moment.

-Regis, what is the matter? Your thoughts waver. Are you having trouble with the matrix? You shouldn't be using it alone.-

-I've just had a few shots of Terranan whiskey. It tastes like the burnt tree bark steepings my nurse used to give me for medicinal teas. Here, have a taste.- On the other end of the link Regis tipped back a shot glass, letting Danilo feel the burn run over his tongue.

-Blech! Bredu, are you drunk? Holy Bearer of Burdens, you're handling the tower's matrix drunk! Are you mad? Domna Callina will kill you!-

-She's downstairs and doesn't know what I'm doing. The rest of the matrix workers are drunk, too. Well, not Domna Callina.- Regis giggled again. -We've been celebrating the completion of my training, and you know it's traditional to have a few drinks. Domna Callina gave me permission to use my matrix without her supervision only two hours ago. Do not worry for me. The leronis says I am a natural keeper.-

Danilo smiled a little, though he was still worried. -You're insane.-

-Not insane. Lonely.-

Danilo bowed his head. Sober, Regis did not admit his feelings so easily.

-Do you know what I thought when we were escaping from Aldaran?-

Danilo gathered his nerve for a reply. He did not admit feelings so easily, either. -That you loved me?-

-That too,- Regis replied with comical emphasis. -But I also realized I didn't want to die a virgin. Were you thinking the same thing?-

Danilo laughed and rolled his eyes. -You are definitely drunk. I may be the grandson of Dom Kyril Ardais, but no. All I could think about was our safety. And that--I loved you as well.-

There was a mental silence. Danilo felt another whiskey burn on his tongue, and a wobbly sense of relief. Had Regis doubted him?

-No, bredu. But, we have been parted so long, and sometimes--

-Regis, do not doubt me. Never doubt me,- Danilo insisted with vehemence.

-I won't. But there's something else. I have these--things--that plague me more than they used to.-

-Things?-

-Cravings.-

Danilo grinned. He replied with a low, lazy thought like a warm breath to tickle an ear, -What cravings are these? Enlighten me, Dom Regis.-

*Urkle*

For a moment Danilo was baffled. He'd never felt a mental boggle before, or been the cause of one, anyway. -Bredu?-

-You made me drop my shot glass. Zandru's Hells, what a mess. It's shattered all over the tiles. I don't know if I can sustain the link.-

Danilo let out a wry laugh. -Too drunk?-

-Too lustful. And too drunk, I admit. You're terrible to have at the other end of a matrix. I'm dying here, bredhyu. I want to see you so much.-

Danilo blushed. He'd never heard this infliction of the word before.

-Have you changed?- The voice was plaintive again.

-I'm still Danilo Syrtis, the last I remembered.-

-No. I meant physically. Could you touch your face for me? I want to remember your features.-

Danilo did so, rubbing his hands over his forehead, closed eyelids, nose, and cheeks. -Is that good enough?-

-Do you have a mirror?-

I think so. A little embarrassed, he fetched the hand mirror lying next to his hairbrush and held it up to his face.

A mental voice sighed. -I hate Dyan.-

-Why?-

-He has you, and I do not.-

-Regis, could we change the subject? Please remember he does not 'have me.'-

-I will obey your request, and sub--sub--change the topic. I hate your name. Danilo Syrtis-Ardais is absolutely revolting. It sounds like you’re married to Dom Dyan.-

-Oh, Lord of Light.-

-What you ought to be, and I'm explaining this in a very roundabout way, is Danilo Syrtis-Hastur! Though techni—techni--some Terran word--that wouldn't be correct. You'd be Danilo Syrtis-Ardais-Hastur! Oh, merciful Avarra, that sounds worse.-

This time Danilo laughed outright. -You are so absurd.- He was delighted by this ridiculous conversation. After weeks of enduring so many watchful and judging eyes, Regis' lightheartedness was like rain to a drought. -I've missed you, too, bre—bredhyu,- he replied bravely.

-Could you run your hands over yourself again? I want to feel that you're real.-

-All right. Danilo swept his hands over his arms and torso.-

-How about--

-Regis! That's--you can't possibly want—you've had too much whiskey and are not yourself.-

-On the contrary, I am perfectly myself except with lowered inhibitions.- The feeling at the other end was wistful. It was tender, treading carefully. -I DO want this, but I will not ask further.-

-Regis, I don't mean--

-You do. Don't apologize.- A sensation like a bottle being tipped back came to Danilo, and more burning wetness slid down his throat.

-Please do not drink any more. You will be sick tomorrow. I meant to say—it’s too much intimacy.-

-How can it be too much intimacy when we’ve been reading each other’s minds?- asked Regis with incredulity. -You know my innermost thoughts. I know what you feel for me. You know what I feel for you.-

-It’s a different sort of intimacy. I am used to the touching of minds. I have been doing that for years. The other touch–is completely new, and I have seen little of it that I liked or ever wanted. I’m sorry.-

-If you do not want this, will it bother you if I try it?-

Danilo looked around as if someone in the castle might have overheard the suggestion, semi-panicked at Regis' idea. -I don't know. I--

-Let your hands be mine, bredhyu. This is to touch your lips.- Regis brushed his fingers over his mouth. -This is to feel your body in its loneliness.- Regis hugged himself. -And this is to let you know that I miss you.-

Danilo was paralyzed, feeling Regis' body as if it were his own, his fingers going slowly down to Regis' waist, to the button there, undoing it. Danilo took a moment to brace himself, to stop the scream of sacrilege inside his head, then let the hand slide in--

The door of Danilo's bedroom shook under a loud knock. He startled badly.

“Dom Syrtis, do you have someone in there with you? I heard you laughing.” It was the guard's voice.

“Let me handle this, Raoul,” came the bitter tones of Lord Ardais. “It was well you summoned me. Danilo?”

With a wild look about to see that everything was in order, Danilo rose from the bed.

-Zandru's Hells,- Regis growled through the link. -I don't believe this.-

-Hush, let me deal with him.- Danilo opened the door. “It is all right, foster-father, I was having a funny dream.”

Dyan's eyes searched the chamber narrowly. “Indeed?” he said with skepticism. For a moment Lord Ardais seemed about to leave, then he suddenly lifted the drape from the bed and peered beneath the bedstead. Both the guard and Danilo goggled. So did Regis, through the link.

Dyan stood up, his face momentarily awkward. “Well then, good night.” He left before Danilo could exclaim at the intrusion.

“Thank you, Raoul,” said Danilo firmly to the guard. He shut the door on the men, irate.

Through the link came a fuming anger. -I don't believe this. By what right does he search your chamber? By what right does he even suspect you? He, above all, ought to know you are not a libertine.-

Danilo sat down on the bed. -I can't believe it, either. I'm not sure how good a telepath he is. Maybe he sensed you?-

Regis made an exasperated mental noise. -Dani? His tone grew wistful again. This is my last night at Arilinn. I will not have the tower's matrix to use after this evening, and I am not strong enough to contact you on my own without it. Please? I will not see you until the beginning of the Guards.-

Danilo hesitated, thinking. He could not stop the thought that what Regis wanted, was something Dyan had--done.

He felt Regis pull away despondently at the reflection.

-Go ahead. Try it,- Danilo said to him suddenly. -I—I'm not sure how well it will work, though.-

-Do you mean it!?-

A sudden jarring rang through the link, and the thought, -OH NO.-

-Regis?-

-Domna Callina has just entered the room, and she's furious. Have you ever seen an angry keeper before? It's a scary sight. Domna, I can explain--

The link broke.

Danilo sent his thoughts speeding after the departing consciousness. He searched wildly with his laran, feeling for any trace of Regis. After several minutes, he gave up.

Nothing. Regis was gone. Gone until spring.

He gathered his thoughts together, racing back to his body through the castle, a blur of sleeping minds passing through his, all save one. One mind was very wide-awake, and broadcasting like a beacon.

Lord Ardais was thrusting deeply, ramming his cock into the ass of a half-dozing Garin. The boy woke further, annoyed by this sudden midnight lust. “Naotalba twist your feet! What brought this on? Get off and let me go to sleep!” snarled the boy.

Lord Ardais' reply was to shove Garin's face into the pillow, muffling his protests. The stench of hate-filled sex flooded the room, reeking like old sweat.

Disgusted, Danilo's consciousness fled the room.

-oOo-

Continued in Chapter 2.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 

-oOo-

 

At the end of his first winter at Ardais, Danilo left for the Guards' season at Thendara. But before he could meet with Regis, Domna Callina Aillard summoned him and questioned him closely about Dyan’s behavior. It took nearly an hour to satisfy the leronis, and he was greatly embarrassed. Nonetheless, he was pleased that his safety mattered to another person in Thendara besides Regis. As for Regis himself--

They greeted each other in the guardsmen's barracks with hugs and laughter. After being parted so long, seeing each other was a joy, even if there were a few surprises.

“Holy Bearer of Burdens,” said Danilo. “Are you going to shave it off?”

“Hey, I like this beard. Doesn't it look imposing? I think it gives me an air of authority. The next footpad I encounter will think twice before defying me.”

“I must sadly correct you. It is not quite a beard, but rather a lipfull of fuzzy down, plus a dependage of two uneven patches on either side of your chin.” Danilo grinned slyly and said in the voice of the arms-master, “'Vanity is frowned on in the Guards, but we do respect order.'”

“All right,” Regis conceded. “If you're laughing, so will everyone else.” Grudgingly, he fetched a basin of water and began to remove the beard.

“Be careful, bredu. It does not impress footpads if you appear before them already maimed.”

When finished, Regis had his old face back. He too, had his questions. Danilo sighed. This was going to be a day of long explanations.

“He swore he would behave himself towards me, and he has.” Danilo did not meet his friend's eyes as he unpacked by his bed. “He has made no advances.”

“But do you live there without strain?” Regis asked, perched on Danilo's mattress.

“No,” Danilo admitted. “He is a difficult man, and he has things arranged at Ardais to suit his tastes. Nor does he exactly hide his activity. Here, get off. I need to put on the sheets.”

Regis stood up. “My grandfather and Kennard Alton are madmen! They never should have connived at your adoption as the solution to your troubles with Dyan. You’re one of the most sensitive telepaths on Darkover and you live in that place? It is madness.”

“But for part of the year I serve with the Guards,” Danilo reminded him, waving a finger around the room.

“Where we train to fight on the practice ground, sword, knife, hand-to-hand, and wrestle, then go out under the supervision of a Senior Officer to confront drunks and break up fights, trying to keep the peace despite every fool in Thendara who does not care. It’s no work for you, Dani.”

“Are you saying I’m not up to it? I'm your paxman, Regis, and need to learn these things.”

“I’m not accusing you of lacking the ability. I’m saying you have a handicap, namely the nature of your laran, your temperament, and your past. They all combine against you.”

“It is precisely because of my laran, my temperament, and my past that I wish to stick it out, and finish every difficult task I undertake. Do you understand?” Danilo threw his clothes impatiently on the bed.

“I do,” said Regis glumly. He put an arm around his friend.

An officer entered in full uniform and the two boys sprang apart, coming to attention. To their surprise, the officer was Dyan Ardais. “At ease,” Lord Ardais said, running his cool gaze over them. “Did you get something in your eye?” he asked his foster-son. His sardonic expression fell on Regis. “Under normal circumstances I would have suspicions if I saw two cadets embracing, but not about you and Danilo. That would be grossly out of place, would it not? My foster-son is a model of virtue.”

Annoyed, Danilo replied, “I am fine, sir.”

“Good. I've come to announce a change. You may tell the other cadets when they arrive. Danvan Hastur has given me command of the guards this year.”

“Sir?” said Danilo in consternation.

“You should remember that Kennard Alton and his son are off-planet,” Lord Ardais replied. “It was necessary for the Regent to find a substitute.”

“But sir,” said Regis, “isn't the post supposed to go to an Alton? Gabriel Lanart-Hastur is an Alton cousin, and he was deputy commander last year.”

“Dom Hastur did not want to be accused of absorbing the position into the Hastur Domain, a concern I share. As for myself, do not expect favoritism from me. You two will be treated exactly like every other cadet here, and I intend to train you hard and work you hard. For a start, go clean this room.”

“Yessir,” said the two boys dejectedly.

After his foster-father left, Danilo headed for the broom. Regis, however, was staring into space, thinking.

“He gave no hint of this beforehand,” said Danilo ruefully as he began to sweep the floor.

“Maybe he didn't know until today. Do you know what? I've grown suspicious of Grandfather. As a career officer, Gabriel really is the better choice. There must be a reason Grandfather felt he had to either mollify—or bribe--Dyan. Making him commander is even worse than making him cadet-master. Zandru's Hells, why hasn't Grandfather learned yet!”

“I don't think Dyan's foolish enough to try to force one of the cadets into his bed again this year.” Danilo gave his friend an ironic look. “He doesn't have another Domain to give away to make amends for it.”

Regis was still thoughtful. “You are probably right. Nevertheless, why did Grandfather do it? It's so aggravating! I finally meet you again only to have him assigned to watch over us.”

Danilo stopped sweeping and met his eyes. -Do you think--

Regis' hand stilled. -Maybe. Let me consider this.-

-I know your grandfather does not approve of us,- thought Danilo gravely.

-That is true, but I still don't see why he is so eager to appoint Dyan to be our chaperone. Anyone else would do for that job, including Gabriel. Zandru's scorpion whips! I've just had a thought. The more you are in Dyan's company, the more Grandfather hopes you'll become used to him, and let him win over your feelings. Maybe Grandfather is bribing him with YOU.-

-Regis! That's crazy-talk.-

Regis, however, was scowling. -It would solve two problems for Grandfather. Parting us so he can marry me off, and sealing Dyan's support for the Hasturs in Council with your body. No wonder Grandfather wants you to live at Ardais. Yes, my vile old relative is capable of being that devious.-

“That can't be true,” said Danilo aloud. “Regis, I know you are angry, but this is paranoia. Rest assured I have no intention of cooperating with such a scheme. Besides,” he added sardonically. “No one ever won love by screaming drill orders and assigning barracks-sweeping duty. At least, I've never heard of such. If it didn't work the first time with me, then it's not working the second.”

“That's good, bredu.” Regis, however, was still troubled.

“Dyan does not even know what proper courtship is. He finds a lover by being cruel to a boy, then waits for a submissive response. That is how he knows he's met the compliment to his nature.”

“I do not think he is even that polite, sometimes,” said Regis darkly. “I do not trust him at all.”

At that moment Danilo happened to glance out a window. Lord Ardais was crossing the courtyard, heading for an approaching cadet. Something in his foster-father's manner alerted Danilo and he set aside his broom, stepping close to the window to watch.

“Bredu?” said Regis. “What--

Danilo waved him to silence. Regis joined him at the window.

“What's your name, cadet?” Lord Ardais barked at the boy.

“Cadet Storn,” said the boy. “Riccardo Storn.” Riccardo was well-grown for a first year boy, and he was just sufficiently good-looking that Danilo sucked in his breath in alarm.

“You're the boy the Storns adopted, the foundling,” said Dyan.

“Yes, sir,” said Riccardo. “The family's been very kind to me.”

“You were living on the streets, I heard. That was indeed great altruism on the part of the Storns to take you in and sponsor you for a cadetship. If you keep your cool and learn how to handle yourself in dangerous situations, you will have a fine career as a Guardsman.” Dyan fixed him with a meaning eye. “Of equal importance is how you learn to handle association with your betters. Do not neglect the social aspects of your position, by which you can gain much personal advantage.”

“I understand, sir.” Riccardo's tone had gone oddly flat.

“I was told you lived by your wits on the street, earning coins by performing certain services.”

“I did,” said Riccardo, his voice almost inaudible. He hung his head, humiliated at having this conversation with his superior.

“Well,” said Dyan brightly. “I need an aide. There is a small salary that goes with the position. You will of course sleep in my quarters, and will be taking care of my clothes and equipment, but the position is not very onerous. One thing, though. You must attend to my needs. “ He stepped very close to the boy. “ALL of my needs. Do you understand?”

Watching from the window, Regis and Danilo tensed.

“Sir?” said Riccardo weakly.

Dyan reached down and fondled the front of the boy's trousers. Taking his time, he untied the cords, watching Riccardo with cool steadiness. Then he slid a hand inside and lifted the boy's genitals out.

“Sir,” said Riccardo again. This time his voice was pleading, his face distressed. “Please let me go!”

Lord Ardais ignored him, rubbing the boy's cock. “You do not have my permission to leave. Be silent, cadet.”

A long moment passed as the two stared at one another, Riccardo with his face flushed, blinking as if he were about to break into tears, and Dyan with a half-smile on his face. He palmed the boy's body with sudden roughness, and glanced down pointedly. Riccardo was growing erect.

-We have to stop this!- Regis sent to Danilo. -Let's go out and--

Lord Ardais had lifted a coin out of his pocket, and was stroking the boy's face with the edge, his other hand still working along the boy's shaft. Riccardo was fully erect now, and his mouth hung open. “This is an advance on your salary.” He lifted the coin in the air so they could both have a good look at it. “Say, one day's worth of wages?”

Riccardo stared at the coin, then at Dyan. “All right,” said the cadet, his voice suddenly brisk. He took the money.

“A good choice.” Dyan let go of the cadet. “I must make arrangements for the opening ceremony, so meet me at my quarters in an hour. The arms-master will show you where to move your things. I expect good discipline and order from you, and I believe this arrangement will be of much profit to us both.” He gave a final stroke to the boy's erection, then a patronizing pat, and looked directly towards the window of the barracks.

It was too late to duck out of sight, and the two boys at the window went red, flustered at being caught.

“Go over and introduce yourself to my foster-son Danilo, and his friend, Regis Hastur.” He gave Riccardo a polite shove in the direction of the barracks, and finished crossing the courtyard.

With a horrified look, Riccardo spun around and stuffed himself back inside his trousers and retied the cords. When he turned back again, his eyes were wide and frightened.

Impatiently, Regis waved him over. “What on earth do you think you're doing?” Regis blurted, leaning out the window. “You can't! Zandru's Hells, the man's a disaster.”

Riccardo's mouth worked. He was almost too mortified to make himself speak. “You s—saw?” he stuttered.

“Yes,” said Danilo urgently. “You can't do it. Back out any way you can. Invent a sexual disease or something. Holy Bearer of Burdens, you don't know what you're getting into.”

“You're—you're his foster-son?” Riccardo said. “Oh.” He recovered himself and gave an awkward smile. “You're THAT boy. Some advice you give. You were his lover, and now you're his heir, eh?” He laughed nervously. “You did well enough, I see. A Domain is a pretty good payoff. And you're telling me to do differently?”

“I was never his lover!” Danilo sputtered.

Regis scowled. “Look here. You have the sponsorship of a good family, the Storns. Why do you think you need Dyan's?”

Riccardo only gave him a wounded look. “Pardon me, Dom Regis, but you've never lived on the streets. I'm afraid you'll never understand one who has.”

“Look,” Danilo begged. “Don't do it; I'm serious. Dom Ardais is an awful man.”

Riccardo made a scoffing noise. “If you truly believed that, Dom Danilo, you never would have accepted the Domain.”

“Lord of Light!” Regis exclaimed. “You know his reputation. Everyone does. How can you take the risk?”

“Well, if he becomes a bother, I'll leave,” said Riccardo evenly. “As for me, I could use another sponsor. The Storns expect me to make my way in life somehow. Maybe you don't see the need, but I do.”

“He has a boy named Garin Lanart ensconced in the Ardais compound here in the city,” said Danilo, trying not to lose his patience. “He's Dyan's lover. You realize the both of you will be sharing him?”

“Has he?” said Riccardo slowly. He half-grinned. “That's a bit of luck, isn't it? I shouldn't be called on too much, then. Thanks for the heads-up. Good day to you, my lords.” Riccardo bowed to them, and headed across the courtyard.

Danilo was hanging over the edge of the sill, staring in astonishment. The two boys exchanged incredulous looks.

“Always, Dyan manages to have his way,” Regis marveled with disgust. “I swear you're the only person who's ever told him no.”

For the rest of the season they worked hard at their duties and had little free time. They were never out on patrol together, and were never alone except on their weekly day off, and Dyan's pen on the duty roster kept assigning each of them different free days. Worse, Danvan Hastur always needed Regis to attend him whenever Regis was free. Lord Ardais himself called for Danilo's assistance on the commander's various rounds and duties so often that Danilo was convinced he was seeing twenty times more of his foster-father than Regis. By the arrival of Autumn, even Danilo agreed the Regent was colluding with Dyan to break them up.

As for Regis' other suspicion, Danilo admitted that though his foster-father was very capable in his role as commander of the guards, it still did not soften his feelings, or rather, it did not soften them very much. He had, however, grown too familiar with Lord Ardais to be paranoid about him anymore. And Dyan did have his virtues.

Riccardo must have performed more than adequately in bed. At the end of the season he was invited back to Ardais to become one of Dyan's personal bodyguards. To Danilo's dismay, young Storn agreed, resigning his commission.

“It's not as much work, and I'm less likely to be killed apprehending some thief,” the ex-cadet said to Regis and Danilo when they remonstrated with him. “As for the rest, that's just business. The salary's better than a guardsman's, too.”

Their duties were wearying and difficult, with Regis and Danilo seeing little of each other except when they rose from bed or lay down to sleep. But the weeks passed quickly, and they found their time together much too short. When the end of Autumn came, Danilo found it very hard to accompany Dyan to Ardais again.

-oOo-

One good thing came from so much association with his foster-father. This year, the layer of protection around him eased. He was even allowed to meet Dyan in private these days.

“I am pleased you think my progress is satisfactory, and that I do not need--” Danilo hesitated, “--so much oversight in the dispatch of my work anymore.” For a moment, Danilo regretted his words. He was afraid Dyan might catch the hidden meaning.

It seemed Lord Ardais had. One of his eyebrows rose. “That is true. I gave orders a few weeks ago that you were not to be shadowed so much. I supposed you had begun to grow tired of it.”

Danilo was astounded. “Those were YOUR orders, sir? You gave the command that I was to be accompanied at all times!?”

“Of course. You are not so much a boy anymore, and you will want to take advantage of your freedoms. The Ardais blood is waking in your veins, driven by our chieri ancestry, and you will soon succumb to its passions, as all men of our line do. To one your age, Ardais is ripe fruit. At least I found it so, at seventeen.”

Danilo was annoyed by the comparison. Like Regis last year, Danilo found himself being bothered by cravings more and more, especially since his duties at Ardais did not exhaust him the way the Guards had.

The laborers winding up the harvest were many days away from wives and sweethearts, and they sometimes used each other for pleasure as they slept out nights under blankets in the fields. Between Dyan, Riccardo, Garin, Carlo the kitchen boy, and the laborers, Danilo learned to shield his mind better than he'd ever managed to learn from the tuition of three tough-as-old-horsehide leroni at Corandolis Tower. Yet--things--kept happening to him at odd moments during the harvest.

“Stefan,” said the coridom to the foreman, “blow the horn for the noon meal.” The foreman lifted the glossy, curved horn and blew a loud blast. The coridom, Ruyvan, nodded in satisfaction. Danilo's eyes skittered away from the foreman as if he’d just gazed a leronis in the face. Stefan was bare-chested, and he was tapping the long horn against a thick forearm whose fine hairs had been sun-bleached to gold. Danilo looked at the ground, his chervine, and studied the reins in his hands.

“Someone must tell Dom Ardais how the day's labor went,” said Stefan.

“I'll go,” replied Danilo immediately, and he rode off as hastily as he could without being rude.

After Danilo left, Stefan gave the coridom a look. “You're right. The boy is still so shy he can’t look a man in the face. Strange.”

Ruyvan grunted a sour negative. “Not so strange at Ardais, Stefan.”

Danilo knew there was a phrase for this. Not in Casta or Cahuenga. The off-worlders had one and his Terranan cousin Daniel Lawton used it on occasion. /What was it again? Oh yes, “adolescent hormones.”/

His adolescent hormones had finally woken, and Regis wasn't around for it. Danilo swore he was not going to start thinking about Dyan the same way he seemed to be thinking about any vaguely attractive random male that caught his eye. He absolutely WOULD NOT. There seemed to be an awful lot of vaguely attractive random males wandering the castle, however. His gaze kept being caught, leaving him stupid and staring.

When Dyan yanked Riccardo, or Garin or Carlo into a corner, Danilo, instead of fleeing immediately like he'd done last year, found himself lingering, half-sickened but half-drawn, wondering what they were doing, aroused. He would be hypnotized by the emotions he was involuntarily picking up with laran, and it took an effort of will to drag himself away. At times, the pull was so strong he began to give some credence to Dyan's notion that there was indeed some alien gene affecting the Ardais bloodlines. Part of the Ardais gift was unusually powerful telepathy, the ability to meld one's mind completely with that of another, and the gift tended to work on its own. Last year, his body had been too young to resonate in sympathy with the sexual thoughts around him. His disgust had protected him. Now, his Ardais gift betrayed him. What if it was indeed the gift that had caused all those other Ardais males to go mad, driving them insane when they were unable to keep the passions of so many others out of their minds?

In his dreams he found himself in compromising positions with strange men, and he'd wake up happy and wanting more. Even Dyan appeared in those particular dreams—more than once. In sleep there was no residue of fear, no memory of the horror Dyan had caused him, and his unconscious brain luxuriated in the scenes, craving his foster-father's unashamed violence, his trespassing nudity and forceful invasions, all delicious. Once awake and returned to the reality of what Lord Ardais was, Danilo would be appalled at himself, touching the sticky spray on his legs with incredulity. His body could not be doing this to him. It simply couldn't. He felt absolutely sick on those mornings. No amount of denial on Danilo's part could blame this on his foster-father's laran meddling, and he spent much of the second winter feeling guilty. He was sworn to Regis Hastur. He longed for Regis, mind and body. Yet his body—without his mind--longed for so many others, including what his mind told him would be absolutely insane to want.

/I am not Dyan Ardais,/ Danilo repeated to himself. /This blood, this alien thing in me, does not drive my will. I am a Syrtis, always and forever. The chieri blood in me means nothing. I will not go mad like all those ancient Lords of Ardais./

If his sexuality had woken anywhere else, he could have dealt with it more easily. But here, it had become a horror.

Dyan Ardais. His own foster-father. His mother's half-brother. He was crazy to even consider it. /I am NOT considering it. The longing is only a dream, a phantom./

But as winter passed, Lord Ardais' 'more than once' appearances in his dreams became 'often.' Danilo began to have a recurring nightmare. He was caught out in a ghost wind, insane from kireseth pollen, wandering icy mountain paths, naked, defenseless. Then someone jumped him from behind. It was Lord Ardais, and his foster-father was stabbing him again and again with a knife, screaming out his rage at Danilo's denial of him, hammering the revenge in with every blow. The next instant Dyan had mounted him, and Danilo was coupling with his murderer willingly even as he bled to death. 'I can do this to you,' Lord Ardais was chanting, 'I have the gift to coerce the will. I can make you want me even now.' Regis' appalled face was there too, watching Danilo's betrayal, watching him die.

One day after an unusually vivid repeat of his nightmare, Danilo woke with a start, remembering something he'd been taught at Corandolis Tower. He hadn't been paying much attention to Domna Elhalyn at the time, but now he recalled her words clearly.

'To a telepath, recurring dreams are always premonitions.'

He glanced out his bedroom window. Several feet of snow lay on the ground. Even if he could manage to contact Regis, maybe through the relays at Corandolis, no travel was possible. Castle Ardais was his prison until spring.

-oOo-

  



	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

-oOo-

One evening when an ice storm glazed the windows opaque, Dyan summoned his foster-son to sing after dinner. The music room was empty save for the two of them, and Danilo plucked out a lively tune on the rryl as he accompanied his voice.

“I do not wish you to lose your skill,” said Lord Ardais, “but will you join me in a glass of kirian?” He poured the colorless liquid into a long-handled copper pot, and swirled it before the fire to warm it to blood-heat before decanting it into two glasses.

Danilo was wary. He had no head for wines, and kirian was known for its telepathic enhancing properties. To one with the Ardais gift, it was a deadly drug, lowering all telepathic barriers. Facing a man with the Alton gift—one which could coerce the will--it was even deadlier. Nonetheless, the cold in the room was so severe it was stiffening his fingers, and kirian made him feel warmer. He accepted a glass, though he knew he should not. He told himself that Dyan had changed, indeed, he'd been behaving himself for a long time, or as much as Dyan ever could.

“Sing of love,” commanded Dyan.

/His favorite subject, again? Whyever did I expect anything different?/

Danilo sang. Instead of taking to his usual sofa, Lord Ardais stood directly in front of his foster-son, listening, sipping from his glass with too-intent eyes. Something about his manner was alarming.

When Danilo finished, Dyan took both their glasses and set them aside on a table. “Will you ever change your mind?” asked Lord Ardais.

For a moment, Danilo pretended not to understand. “About what, sir?”

“About me. Do you still think so poorly of me?”

Danilo dropped his eyes to the floor. “Not so much, anymore.”

“That is good. I am glad your education here has included more than books.”

Before he could stop himself, Danilo blurted out, “But there's still one thing I don't understand.”

“What?” Lord Ardais poured himself another glass.

“Why you did it in the first place. Why were you so cruel to me?”

“Ah. You want an answer to that?” Dyan said slowly. He looked away and leaned against a table. “Because I was an utter fool.”

“Oh.”

“Oh, indeed. When you said 'no' to my offer, I could not endure it. I became furious.”

“Was I—the only person you ever--”

“Do not ask me questions about my past. I refuse to answer. I will say this, however. I pride myself on my judgment. That day, when I questioned you in my office, I read your mind. I could tell you were attracted to men. You have a loving heart. I thought--”

Lord Ardais broke off as if the words had become too difficult. “Our kind comes in many varieties. Sometimes, there is little of value to choose from. I have often made do with second or third best, lacking other choices. But when I met you, I thought you were the finest choice any man or woman could make, whatever their preferences.”

Danilo blushed.

Lord Ardais gave him a sidelong look. “That is why I became so unreasonable. I saw what I valued most in life, then lost it--by being too insistent, too hasty with someone who was too young for what I wanted. I was like a beggar with a diamond tossed unexpectedly into my cup. Seeing a luck I never expected, I danced in celebration and accidently dropped my diamond down a street-grate. I went completely mad, wild to gain you by any means. My madness now has its explanation, but no excuse.”

Danilo was too embarrassed to look up. Lord Ardais, too, refused to meet his eyes. “My hope is that I can somehow win back your good opinion.”

“You have—certainly improved it,” said Danilo slowly. He had the sudden intuition he'd just made a godawful mistake. He could feel the kirian working, and Dyan's thoughts were intruding into his own. Lord Ardais was very embarrassed as well, somber, struggling to be forthright, and—eager.

“Have your thoughts about me truly changed?” asked Lord Ardais.

“Somewhat.”

“Would you ever reconsider the other part of my proposition?”

Danilo's eyes shot open in alarm. “Sir?”

Dyan hesitated. “Your time here must be lonely, and you are not so young anymore. I could give you something I think you desire, with no conditions attached.” He put down his glass, and stepped in front of Danilo again.

Danilo felt near-panic. The more reasonable Lord Ardais was, the more frightening he was. Every one of Danilo's paxman instincts was shouting 'danger.'

“Sir, I am sworn to Regis Hastur. I am totally, completely, his,” said Danilo with emphasis. His face felt molten with heat.

“Regis is a worthy choice. I will not do anything to interfere between you two. But he is not here, and not all attachments need be sworn, or lifelong. Sometimes all one desires is simply someone to ease loneliness for a little while, without regrets the next morning. Two men who can be mature in their agreement for a brief encounter, and who will not quarrel, or feel guilty, or even choose to remember it after, if such is desired.”

Danilo was frozen. “Such things are best left to the experienced,” he said. Despite himself, his voice shook. /If we become any more abstract and evasive, we're flitting off into the aether./

Lord Ardais caught the hint. “Sometimes this arrangement is useful if one wishes to gain experience, and do so with discretion. I never boast about my encounters, and will regard anything you request as sacred. Anything. You can have my eternal silence. If you wish us to go back to what we were tomorrow morning, with nothing between us, we will. You can request anything I know in the arts of love. I will swear an oath. You may turn me out of this castle tomorrow, take all that I have, if I break it.”

He was standing very close to Danilo, speaking with great feeling, his voice scarcely above a whisper.

Danilo reflected that this seduction would not have worked on the boy he had been—his younger self would still have been too scared--and it didn't work very well now. Maybe he did desire Lord Ardais, somewhat. Maybe Dyan had changed. But Lord Ardais was still a fairly obnoxious individual, and Danilo had little taste for the distasteful. Besides, Regis was a telepath, too. If he ever found out that Danilo had voluntarily slept with Dyan, Aldones only knew what would happen. Danilo wasn't sure their love could survive so towering a betrayal.

“I am sorry,”--he had to fight the urge to add 'sir'-- “but I cannot consider doing such a thing to Regis,” said Danilo.

“Not even if he benefitted? No offense, but Regis lives in Thendara with many other prospective bed-partners and distractions. His grandfather, you know, is very eager to marry him off, and the prince will naturally attract ambitious climbers. Do you know how many persons, male and female, must be vying for his sexual favors now that he is of age, and free to choose for himself? Who knows how many have tempted him by now? Sometimes—I do not mean to sound cynical, so pardon me—it is helpful to have the charm of experience, not just the charm of person. Anyone can attract another, but experience is what causes your lover to return for more, and it cements the physical part of the relationship together.”

/Typical Dyan, hoping to play on my fears. He has the bad luck to be dealing with a telepath who can read Regis' mind. Dyan does not comprehend our love, or understand what forged our bond./

“I am sorry, sir. I must turn you down. Despite ourselves, Regis and I will muddle through somehow.”

Lord Ardais reddened. “I see,” he said. He struggled to restrain himself. “Maybe one day you will change your mind, but obviously not now.” He picked up the bottle of kirian and said shortly, “Good evening to you.”

He left the room and did not slam the door, as Danilo expected. Danilo let out a long breath. Could he trust Dyan to leave him alone? A very proud and arrogant man had just been rejected, not once, but twice. This time, Lord Ardais had been on his best behavior, too. How would he take this wound to his ego?

Danilo shut his eyes tightly, trying to stifle the younger boy inside himself. The last time he'd rejected Lord Ardais, it had been—very bad.

From a distance there came a shattering crash of a bottle being thrown down a flight of stairs.

Danilo's eyes opened. Every instinct told him to leave the castle immediately, but it was impossible. /Dyan is different now,/ he insisted to himself. He will be angry for a few days, then get over it. He is different./

-oOo-

The next morning Danilo was summoned straight from bed because the castle had no water. A new fall of snow had buried the water-pump, and all able-bodied men were needed to shovel out a path to uncover it.

It must have been the coldest day of winter when he joined the workmen. Midway through their shoveling, he discovered something. He'd known about Carlo as well as Garin and Riccardo, but hadn't ever confirmed the rumors of the fourth liaison. He discovered the truth of it by the screams.

Horrible screams, very young ones, were coming from the stables. The little cluster of men with him ceased their work a moment to listen, but they all seemed to know without words what had happened. They looked at each other, avoided Danilo's questioning eye, and began to dig again without comment. When Danilo started towards the stables one of the men caught the back of his furred jacket with a hard jerk and held him fast.

Lord Ardais came out of the stables a little later, throwing his cloak around himself. As he passed the workmen he met Danilo's eyes with a disturbing smile, carnal, mocking, and scornful. The expression utterly paralyzed Danilo.

It was only the dim telepathic despair of the stableboy, a lad called Rory, that woke him and caused Danilo to remember that he was someone's paxman. He'd taken the oath to Regis Hastur unto death. He was a member of the City Guards, if still only a cadet. Finally, he would one day be a lord to these men standing behind him, too weak and ashamed to act. The people of Ardais had no one left to protect them.

Danilo stabbed his shovel into the snow and went to the injured boy, and found him bleeding. He summoned the castle's healer, Merinna. He got the names of Rory's parents from Ruyvan. Later, after Merinna was done with her work, Danilo led Rory home through the snow on a chervine. Rory's parents were so poor they'd put him out to service at the castle and could not afford to do without his wages, small though they were. Danilo had been given weekly pocket money by Dyan since his arrival, and he'd been saving it up. Fortunately coin went a long way in the Hellers. The parents accepted his gift with gratitude and agreed not to let their son work for Dyan again. To Danilo's dismay, they didn't seem to think Dyan's episode with their son was terribly serious. Either they were stunted in emotion or simply too poor to care.

For the rest of the day Danilo sweated blood. Lord Ardais' face wore a constant glare, emotionless and threatening. After several strained hours during which the servants spoke in whispers and even Garin looked frightened, Lord Ardais signaled for Danilo to join him for dinner. Dyan said not a word the whole time, and waited until the servants had cleared the dishes and left the room before opening the conversation.

“I never let anger spoil a meal. You carry your duties much farther than I intended.”

Whether he did it to make a point, or had simply forgotten, Dyan drew out his dagger to clean his nails. Danilo thought it might be the former. His foster-father was a maker of gestures. The colorless eyes of Lord Ardais looked truly inhuman. “The servants of this castle are not your business. You will not interfere again.”

“Dom Ardais,” Danilo replied tremulously. “You forget one thing. I am a Syrtis. Maybe sometimes we fail to defend ourselves, but we never fail to defend another.”

With no warning, Dyan rammed the point of his knife directly into the tabletop, sending both Danilo and his chair sliding back a foot.

“You will NOT interfere again,” Dyan snarled.

“I make no promises,” replied Danilo. The two stared silently at one another, until Dyan seemed annoyed by the juvenility of it. He wiggled his dagger back out of the table.

“In your arrogance, you have let the family starve. They have no money. I was paying them wages for the boy's services. Are you proud of yourself now?”

For the first time, Danilo's fear receded a little from sheer rage. He leaned forwards, resting his arms on the table. “His name is Rory, if you ever bothered to learn it. Nor should you boast of starving a single one of the Ardais people. Do you expect to impress me by it? I gave them all I had, and am glad I learned the habits of frugality.”

Dyan went still. “All of it? Every coin of your pocket money? Zandru's Hells, you're a Syrtis indeed,” he sneered. “So.” He fixed Danilo with a lizard-like eye. “You wish to interfere with me? Very well. I will not perform--in your sight--any acts that displease you. As for out of your sight--” he smiled mockingly “--try to catch me. Maybe you cannot be intimidated, but you cannot change my nature any more than you can change the course of the sun.”

With this, Lord Ardais threw his knife so close to Danilo's ear that the boy felt the wiff, and flinched aside. The knife lodged in the wall with a loud thonk.

Shaken, Danilo knew then that all his efforts to get along with his foster-father, to view him as a human being, had been a waste.

-oOo-

  
  
  
  
Continued in Chapter 4.   
  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 

-oOo- 

Spring came. Danilo rose one day when the snow had melted, the mud finally drying enough to ride out. He'd been rising too early too often, dogging the footsteps of Lord Ardais, to Dyan's sardonic delight. Lord Ardais actually seemed pleased to have his suspicious, watchful company. Even Garin's snide comments about jealous ex-lovers failed to dislodge Danilo from his task. Lord Ardais had not raped again, as far as Danilo knew—or as far as Danilo's presence was preventing him from doing it. 

When his foster-father was heading for a tryst with one of his boyfriends, he would ask Danilo if intended to join them or just watch, and Danilo would flee for his sanity, sickened by the filthy images he caught in Dyan's too-creative mind. 

Spring also brought Regis. 

Bandits had been seen in the mountains, and they robbed the first train of pack horses leaving Ardais for the capital at Thendara. Regis arrived at Castle Ardais in the company of half-a-dozen guardsmen, dispatched from Thendara to hunt them down. The party was to be joined by Lord Ardais, Garin, and Danilo before they set off. 

Mounted on a chervine, Danilo watched his friend ride up to the castle steps. Regis was grinning broadly. When he came alongside, Danilo took a fast look around—the guardsmen were all facing the other way, watching Lord Ardais—and gave Regis a quick peck on the lips. Then he averted his face as if nothing had happened. 

Surprised, Regis raised a hand to his mouth. “Dani?” 

“That was a kiss of relief!” Danilo’s eyes were a little panicky. “I wasn't sure you'd make it through without being attacked. The road must have been clear of bandits.”

“We did, bredu. Don’t be upset. And thank you.”

“For what?” Danilo knitted his brows.

“For being relieved,” Regis replied lightly.

Lord Ardais, who was in the middle of giving orders to the Guardsmen, broke off. When Regis and Danilo turned to see what was the matter, they found Dyan staring at them. Lord Ardais' pale eyes were expressionless, his face blank. By now, Danilo knew that facade was a mask for deep emotion. Worn out by the weeks of his self-appointed chore, Danilo was happy to see that his foster-father could still be wounded. It was a thought unworthy of a Syrtis, but he was absolutely fed up with Dyan. 

-What's going on?- asked Regis. 

-I'll explain later. We must hunt, now.- 

After gathering their supplies the party set off, traveling down the narrow trail they called a road in the Hellers. They scoured the mountainsides for three days, examining all trails, but found nothing. The Hellers were almost untraversable except for the roads, and Regis concluded the bandits must have fled for the lowlands. He wrote out a report and added descriptions of the stolen trade goods, and sent a guardsman off to Thendara with the packet of messages. 

Lord Ardais disagreed, his shrewd eye wandering the peaks. “If they know the Hellers well enough to rob here, they know the mountains well enough to live here. We will continue.” 

“We cannot search forever,” Regis warned. “We must return before the kireseth blooms, or we will be hallucinating all over the mountainside. That time is very close.”

Garin was of little use in the search, and the only reason Lord Ardais appeared to have brought him was to keep his bedroll warm. The cold was still dangerous. Fires were kept burning all night and Regis and Danilo slept together under brush shelters, wearing all their clothes and piling their blankets on top to stay warm. Both were too weary for anything except sleep. One night as they lay huddled and shivering, Danilo told Regis about Rory. 

-Is there anything we can do?- asked Danilo. 

Regis cursed and gave Lord Ardais the evil eye. -Not in the law. If the parents sold the child's services and did not lodge a protest over his treatment, we have no recourse. Damn the man! Did he do anything else?- 

Danilo considered, then decided it was best to speak. -He tried to seduce me.- 

Regis was left gaping. A tiny mental voice asked, -Did you say no?- 

Danilo threw back his head and laughed. -Of course. Zandru's Hells! If my choice was between you or Dyan, why do you think I'd pick Dyan?- 

Regis made a comical, hurt face. -Because you keep saying 'no' to me.- 

-You are a thousand times the man he is. And—I must tell you things have changed. What was distasteful to me—to my younger self—is no longer so. I will not say 'no' anymore.- 

-Do you mean it!?- Regis' thoughts were a blaze of delight. 

-Yes, but not here. Even I cannot manage when it's freezing, and with such an audience.- He glanced across on the other side of the fire, where Dyan and Garin were slowly moving together. 

-He certainly doesn't spare us,- thought Regis with annoyance. Dyan and Garin, undeterred by the weather, had been having sex every night. The other guardsmen had taken to spreading their blankets as far away as possible from the couple. Everyone had been doing their best to ignore the pair. The couple tended to be noisy, though, and Danilo thought it was deliberate. Lord Ardais was quite irked by the disgust shown by the others—especially Danilo's disgust, and he took much pleasure in the chance to publically display his lovemaking before his foster-son. 

-Dani? I've come to a conclusion. We're not finding these bandits and Dyan knows it. He's keeping us out here deliberately, for scenes such as—the one he's involved in now. We're going home at the first excuse.- 

The next day the cold relented, and they had their excuse. A few mountain flowers blossomed. “Dani,” said Regis as they were riding. “These are kireseth flowers.” -Zandru's Hells! We must get out of here. Pollen always follows the blooms.- 

Danilo drew rein and looked around. “Just a few of them. But you're right. We cannot risk any more patrols. Even Dyan must see the necessity.” Quickly, they both soaked handkerchiefs with their water bottles and tied the damp material around their mouths and noses. Kireseth, fortunately, did not affect chervines. 

To their amazement, Lord Ardais would not call off the search. “We will stay out as long as possible,” he declared during the noon meal. All the guardsmen had gathered to discuss the situation. They were dining along a gentle slope next to a steep ravine, with a drop hundreds of feet down. Unfortunately, this was the safest place they could find for their campsite. The drop along the other parts of the trail measured in the thousands. 

“Do you think the Hellers has soft, downy meadows?” Lord Ardais continued. “Look around at our campsite. The flowers are few, scattered, and harmless.”

“Proximity to a flower is the greatest danger,” Regis protested. “There are still too many for safety. The pollen from a single flower is all it takes to drive a man mad.”

“I must correct you,” said Lord Ardais, “a ghost wind is the greatest danger. The pollen will stay inside the flowers without it.” The position of cook rotated among them and Dyan had this duty today. For some time he had been stirring a sauce, browning it carefully to dress some rabbithorns the guardsmen had downed with arrows. Everyone was sitting on logs, roasting sticks of rabbithorn meat over a pair of fires and sliding the cooked pieces onto their tin plates. When the sauce was ready they smeared it over their meat. It was a well-made addition, and Lord Ardais gave Regis and Danilo generous portions of it. All the diners were covered with damp handkerchiefs, except for Dyan who scorned one, but they had to pull them down to eat.

About halfway through his meal Danilo began to feel sick, as if he'd drunk too much. Yet nothing was in his flask save water. Had the rabbithorn been spoiled? It had been shot scarcely an hour earlier, so ought to be fresh. The sauce? The rich brown sauce was the only culprit left. Danilo studied his foster-father. The notion seemed impossible. Dyan would not have deliberately poisoned everyone, would he?

“What is in this?” he asked his foster-father.

Garin replied. “Kirian. I saw him adding it.”

Danilo stared at his foster-father, aghast. Kirian was brewed from kireseth flowers. A small amount of kirian was not dangerous. A slight exposure to the pollen might not be a threat. But both together?

Dyan was staring back. Lord Ardais' eyes were almost too much to bear. There was nothing sentient in that flat, indifferent gaze, intent as a predator's. Danilo could not look away. A weakness ran through him, and his mouth opened as if he couldn't find enough air.

The wind picked up, brushing pine-needles together. Danilo listened. There seemed to be voices in the breeze, though he couldn't make out the words. A pinecone dropped to the forest mast and the sound went on for a very long time, his mind refusing to let it go. The wind was bad for some reason, but he couldn't remember why.

-Regis, I feel strange.-

Next to him, Regis set down his plate on the grass and clutched his head. -So do I, bredu. The kirian makes one more open to laran at first, then closed if you have too much. But this effect is different. I've never felt--

He stood up in realization, swaying. “Lord Ardais, the pollen has reached dangerous levels. We must leave immediately. All of you, cover your mouths!”

Dyan looked up from his plate, undisturbed. “What is your worry? I feel nothing as yet. Do the rest of you feel anything?” he asked the dining guardsmen.

Something seemed to vibrate in the air and a humming came from all sides as if it was crawling out of the plants. Lightheaded and faint, Danilo looked around in alarm. He lost his balance and slid off his log. Regis turned to him, was bending over him, then he too collapsed. He fell very slowly right towards Danilo. Expecting the painful crash of bodies slamming together, Danilo braced himself. Instead, Regis simply disappeared into the ground.

Danilo was not sure what happened next, or how much time passed. He still felt the humming, accompanied by the clatter of forks against tin plates. Voices spoke, but were too disordered and low-pitched for him to understand them.

He saw the bobbing motion of someone's head. He lay in a pool of paralysis, unable to move. Someone was jerking him from side to side at the hips and for a moment he understood the sensations. His feet were bare, cold air playing between his toes. Stones and dirt dug into the back of his nude body. /This is not real,/ thought Danilo, /this is the hallucination of kireseth./ Harsh, hot breathing pressed right against his genitals, and a man's voice whispered guttural obscenities before pausing to mouth him. Two calloused fingers stroked up and down his shaft. Danilo struck out, but this only earned him a squeeze, and the agony felled him. The grip on him eased, yet stayed taut. He could feel his blood beating thickly through the pain-wracked flesh in the other's hand. A huge mouth sucked him in and teeth clamped down, gnawing as if to tear the flesh. He kicked at the monstrous parasite and the mouth released him.

Something was standing over him. To his amazement, he saw it was a chieri. It was etiolated and wispy, with lean hips and small breasts. Its hair was as translucent as glass. Angry, he attacked it. He sat up and seized its hand, and with a hard yank jerked it down beside himself and rolled over on top of it, parting its legs with an impatient insert and twist of his hand. He was facing an upside-down triangle, red as blood and too tiny for him.

He didn't care. Whatever insane mind-set he was in, he didn't care. He wanted revenge for the pain. This thing deserved him. He tried to press himself inside, but his body refused to respond. Instead, he shoved his palm in its narrow channel, made a fist and pumped hard, repeatedly. The chieri tried to fight him off, drawing blood as it clawed his face, biting his shoulder with stinging teeth. He did not care. Why was he doing this? He felt no pleasure. Frustrated, he rolled away from the chieri. What was he doing? He didn't want this. He wanted Danilo.

Confused, Danilo understood his mind was in another's body, then he lost himself again. Voices were laughing. -Give him to us,- the wind breathed. -We have his blood, his body. Die on the knife. Die on the knife. Kiss it, eat it with your mouth-

From a bizarre angle he saw Dyan, his face wild with glee, stabbing repeatedly with a knife. The knife rammed into Danilo's chest with a thump that sent him reeling back several feet, and Lord Ardais jerked the boy back and forth like a rag doll as he struggled to dislodge the blade from between Danilo's ribs. Knife blow after knife blow landed with the force of punches, knocking Danilo about.

He couldn't breathe. His own blood was pouring into his lungs, suffocating him. The knife sliced into his diaphragm and he could no longer suck in a single breath. He fell on his back, knowing he was about to die by his foster-father's hand. Smiling maniacally, Lord Ardais undid his trouser-front and urinated, spraying his victim from head to toe with the marks of his contempt and triumph. Laughter came from all sides, like the audience enjoying a play. Then Dyan knelt and shoved back his foster-son's chin, stretching the neck-cords taut. A knife slit Danilo's throat across in two V-shaped strokes, gouging out a chunk of flesh. Another cut went all the way to the spine, and a forth stabbed down the point, wiggling back and forth to sever the tough cord. Strong arms twisted his head impossibly far around, going halfway in a circle, then three quarters. The cord snapped into two as the cartilage broke. A final slice took Danilo's head completely off.

A little later, Danilo found himself lying face down in the dirt. The acrid stink of urine and blood flooded his senses, and the muscles of his legs ached badly. He felt damp and filthy, like he'd run naked through the woods.

-Dani.-

The voice sounded like Regis', yet not.

A hand flattened on the small of his back, stroking. His legs were akimbo, wetness all over his thighs. He lifted himself to his hands and knees, nauseous, fighting the urge to vomit. Poison, he reminded himself. Someone had poisoned him. A hand shoved between his legs from behind and grasped him too intimately. Voices were laughing at him again, a ring of mockery that echoed off the mountains. A tree branch pushed inside him from the rear, opening him wide. It burned like sandpaper. A voice was imploring him, let me, let me, let me. He felt too nauseous to care, vomiting as the branch dug deeper into him.

The pleading voice maddened him with its insistence. It rocked inside him in time to its begging. He would have strangled the disgusting voice if he could, throttled the thick thing that scraped in and out of his body. Then it ceased its movement, and he was awash in its spoutings. Someone pulled him backwards into a lap, arms going around him with monstrous affection, and Danilo sat frozen in horror, still impaled, certain he would split from the appalling thickness if he moved.

-Shall I hurt you? Shall I cut you?-a voice panted eagerly into his ear. -Give my knife a drink of your flesh, just a small delight.-

A dagger was playing around his genitals. It nicked him. Danilo cried out, and managed to knock the dagger spinning from the hand. A voice laughed. Blood was all over their laps, smearing the hands of the man who'd sliced him. The arms let go. One arm hooked around his knee and turned him like meat on a spit.

-Ride me, damn you, ride me,- commanded a familiar voice. -Dani, it's Regis. I'm nearly there. Bring me off, I can't stand this one more second.-

-No, you make me SICK,- Danilo yelled. The smell of urine was growing stronger by the moment. The bloody fingers slid up and down his shaft, setting up a brief, exciting rhythm. The motion stopped. -Ride, if you want more of this,- the voice leered.

The sensation was good, though Danilo was in pain. His mind was away with the winds. He had no inhibitions, no ability to reason. An animal grunting came from beneath him—or from himself--as he pleasured the other man. He rode, pushing himself again and again into the hands. The other man was good, tightening and loosening the grip, trying to deny his rider until Danilo was crying with frustrated lust. Finally, a breeze came, and Danilo's madness lifted slightly—but only slightly.

He was completely nude, sweating from head to toe. His head ached badly and he was breathing with a ragged urgency, his hair all over his face like a madman's. The guardsmen were still seated on stones and logs, chewing half-charred meat. A feeling of cold predation rose from every side as the guardsmen watched him. Laran brought to him their pent-up lusts, their yearning for a sexual quenching however violent, held back to the point of explosion by too long a journey too far away from women. They were watching him rock atop another's body, drinking in the sight of him in lieu of what they couldn't have. Faces that he knew well from the barracks had changed into the faces of monsters, men staring at him with desire, gazing with appreciation at his public display of sex.

He looked down. He was impaled on another man's cock, soaked with blood and thrusting into the man's hands. The face below him was lost, mouth wet and slack with pleasure, a bandit's face, black-bearded and lean. The pale eyes were fixed on his own, open and tender.

His lover was Dyan Ardais.

A voice whispered inside Danilo's mind. -Make the noises you want to make, let me hear your hunger for me-

Lord Ardais' bloody fingers moved on him, stroking with another sticky motion that was too slight. Danilo moaned with longing, his breathing thick and fast as he drove himself harder into Dyan's hands. This time he came, his arousal held too long. He wet his foster-father's chest and face, white sprinkles flecking that bandit beard. Danilo felt the blossom of Dyan's emotions, giddy with joy at finally conquering his foster-son's body. Everything Danilo felt was gone in the animal sensation of his own orgasm, all traces of civilized feelings blasted aside as he was held, his will locked tight in the powerful grip of Dyan's emotions. Danilo could not even find his own outrage. Slowly, Lord Ardais smiled up at him. It was an expression of long-suppressed gloating, of lazy exultation. -Clean it up, pretty boy- came the smug mental command, delivered with the force of the Alton gift. Danilo leaned down, moving his tongue over the coarse hairs of Dyan's beard to take away the stains, and he licked the moisture off his foster-father's chest.

-Look,- said Dyan to his fuddled mind. With a sensation like vertigo, Danilo followed the direction of the other's eyes. Regis was across from them, getting up from a pool of flayed hair and skin. He was covered with blood, his pants down around his knees. He was swaying, his face sick and confused. Then his eyes landed on Danilo and Lord Ardais.

Regis turned green and stumbled. The smell of burning meat came from the fire. All around them, the guardsmen were squatting half-undressed, still eating half-charred meat. Regis' bewildered eyes moved over them, and stopped on an object lying nearby.

It was the severed head of a chieri. The guardsmen were eating the dismembered alien.

Regis threw up, and Lord Ardais laughed wildly, the sound half-insane.

“How do you like it, Hastur? I've taken your boyfriend's virginity, and you've lost yours to a chieri. Did you eat any of your former lover before she died?” Dyan's words were fast and vicious. Possessively, he caressed Danilo's blood-stained flanks.

In a moment of clarified shock, Danilo drew himself up off Lord Ardais' shaft, bleeding and staggering. A dagger was lying nearby and he seized it. Then he flew directly at Dyan, the point aimed at his foster-father's chest.

Regis caught his arm and swung him around in a circle, struggling with him. “We're all mad from kireseth pollen,” Regis was shouting. “One has already died, don't make it another.”

“Let go! Let me kill him!”

“I order you as your lord to PUT THAT DOWN,” Regis ground out.

-Hastur even now? With your pants around your ankles?- Danilo's rage blasted directly into his friend's mind.

-Yes.- The mental reply was calmer than it should have been, if queasy.

-He deserves death! You heard his boast.-

-Don't bother yourself over him,- Regis replied sharply. -You still belong to me. Hold still, let me get your bleeding stopped.- Regis took out his matrix and put an arm around Danilo, holding him close.

-Regis, I'm hurt. He hurt me.- The mental voice sobbed like a child's.

-No, you're not. Most of this blood belongs to the chieri, not you. Your mind is still distorted. He did not maim you. Your injuries are slight, and I've clotted them already. You will not suffer from this. Listen to me, you will not suffer! Look into the jewel,- Regis commanded. The hypnotic waves of the blazing blue stone and the physical contact with his friend calmed Danilo a little. He rested his forehead on Regis' shoulder, and Regis let him shudder there for a few minutes.

-Dani,- Regis prompted. -We need to get our clothes on and find out if everyone's here and still alive. You're still half-mad from the kireseth. All of us are, including Dyan.-

Danilo was still in shock, his body trembling. -I do not even know if any of this is real, but I will try to help.-

It took ten minutes to gather their missing clothes and weapons and scout the area. They found all present, except Garin. The guardsmen were beginning to recover from their altered consciousness and several vomited when they realized what they had been eating.

“Get out!” Regis ordered the guardsmen. “Head for the lowlands as fast as you can and wear your handkerchiefs at all times. We'll join you when we find Garin.” Regis and Danilo had already rewetted and donned theirs, though Lord Ardais had not. The guardsmen quickly headed for their saddles and left.

As Regis and Danilo called for Garin, Lord Ardais straightened his clothes and strolled over to the cooking gear. Danilo saw him tossing out the rest of the sauce over the grass, and almost went for his knife again.

-Regis, did you see what he did!?-

-Yes. Maybe you are right and he did drug us. But he was not responsible for the ghost wind itself. He was drugged, too.-

They both went silent through the link, realizing what it meant for a man with the Alton gift—a telepathic talent that could coerce the will--to go mad. They'd all become puppets in his fantasy, moved around like chess pieces as his insane mind commanded. From their mix of confused impressions, they understood he must have murdered the chieri, after forcing Regis to assault it. Then he'd made the guardsmen eat it while he himself raped Danilo.

-Even if he planned this, I do not think he intended madness on this scale,- said Regis slowly.

-He gave us kirian in the sauce, and guessed the pollen would give us an extra push right over the edge,- Danilo insisted. -He kept all of us here deliberately, knowing the kireseth would free his Alton gift, and free him from all inhibitions—and from all blame of the consequences. He was planning to make us his toys, Regis.-

They looked at each other. -Listen- said Danilo in his most serious tone. -He cannot be allowed to live. He has transgressed once too often, and he will never cease. This time, the Comyn must try him before the Council. His guilty intentions will be in his mind for a leronis to read.-

Regis glanced away. -They will not try him, Dani.-

-WHAT? Why?-

-The law says no one is responsible for what happens under the influence of the ghost wind and kireseth. Who knows how long he's been breathing the pollen? We cannot say when he became unhinged, and even a leronis reading his thoughts would find it impossible to tell. If the issue of premeditation is in doubt, my grandfather is the one who makes the decision. He will not sacrifice a political ally.-

-Regis! He murdered a chieri!-

-Our laws do not protect the chieri. We do not count them as people, and the slaying of them is not considered murder. There is nothing that happened here today that the Council can try him for.-

Danilo only stared at his friend, his face going ashen with disbelief.

-Let's find that idiot Garin and go home before we decide what to do. None of us can bear any more.-

For the next quarter-hour they searched and called for Garin, but couldn't find him.

-Do you think he fell into the ravine?- Regis asked. They both stopped to study the bushes at the bottom, searching for either disturbance or remains. They clung to each other with laran contact, using the emotional warmth to calm and steady one another.

-He might, if he was as drugged as ourselves. We were so close to the edge it's a miracle none of the rest of us fell.-

Danilo's head suddenly cleared and he realized they had an obvious way to find him. He glared at his foster-father. “Where is Garin? Your laran ought to tell you.”

Dyan was leaning against a tree trunk, arms crossed. “I do not care where he is,” said Lord Ardais with much contempt, “now that I've cracked the shell of your body.” He was regarding Danilo with a pleased, lazy smile. His voice whispered directly into Danilo's mind. -Whatever happens now, I've shaped you forever. You will always remember I was your first lover. And neither of us will forget how much you enjoyed it, will we?-

The whispering became more urgent, intruding and touching everywhere. -Do you still care to deny me? Pointless, isn't it? I've looked into your mind and you cannot hide anymore. I know how much you've longed for me these past months, and still do, despite yourself, despite Regis. I am a reasonable man, willing to make bargains. I agree to share you with Regis, if you also give yourself to me. We cannot come back to Ardais and simply revert to what we were before. You understand this. We are no longer foster-father and foster-son, but lovers, sealed together by the desires of the body. Do not deny it.-

A stream of obscene images flew into Danilo's mind before he could block them.

They were of his own body in the act of sex, face distorted with lust. Sickened, Danilo turned away. He did not know if this imploring voice was Dyan normal or Dyan insane. There seemed to be little difference.

“I'm here,” said a flat voice. It came from above their heads. Garin was perched in the crotch of a tree, gazing down. He must have been watching them the entire time.

Unsure of how drugged Garin was, Danilo put a hand to the tree. “Do you need help getting down? I can climb up.”

“Syrtis.” Garin spat the words out. “Syrtis, so noble all the time. Even when stealing what doesn't belong to you.”

Lord Ardais finally deigned to take notice of who was in the tree. “Garin, you ass. Come down. We do not have all day.”

“Fuck you. Fuck the lot of you. Fuck you--” Garin went on in this vein for some time.

Lord Ardais fixed him with an angry eye. Garin's words choked off, and the boy began to climb down with nervous motions.

Danilo was surprised by the boy's compliance. Garin could sulk and quarrel by the hour, and usually did so before obeying. He felt Regis looking at him and the same thought passed through both their minds. -Dyan's using the Alton gift to force him down.-

-He's broken the law again,- thought Danilo pointedly.

-The problem is, we need the idiot down and safely home. We'll have to arrest Dyan later.-

-Regis, I don't think we CAN arrest him. He's an Alton. He won't let us do it. If it's us against him, we're losing. The only other Altons we have to help us are Lew and Dom Kennard, and they're both off-planet.-

-We may have to take him by surprise.-

Garin dropped. He stood in front of Dyan, saying in a low voice. “You bastard.”

“What's the problem, chiyu?” purred Lord Ardais. “I have never been faithful. You've always known it. You knew it before I took you as my lover.”

“Yes, I knew. I accepted that. But I didn't know how quickly you could discard,” Garin snarled.

“You need to be taught a lesson,” said Dyan. “You took me as your lord and master, whatever my faults. You do not have the option of being disloyal. That was not part of our bargain. Despite what you claim in your jealousy, I do not discard. GET ON YOUR KNEES.”

Garin's lips made a strangled rictus, but he sank down before Dyan.

“Lord Ardais,” Regis barked in his best officer's voice. “This is no time for a quarrel. We must leave.”

“Then go saddle the chervines,” replied Dyan coldly. “I need just a minute with Garin here.”

Again, Regis and Danilo exchanged looks. The preservation of Garin's worthless life may have been their business, but his relationship with Dyan was not.

“Let's go,” said Regis. They began to saddle the chervines and tried to ignore the two, until Danilo could not help himself. “Holy Bearer of Burdens,” he said in wonder when he glanced back.

This caused Regis to peek. Garin's mouth was sucking away, pleasuring Lord Ardais. Dyan seemed to care little that he was being watched.

-Can we kill him now?- Danilo asked wearily. -I do not think Garin is doing this by his own will. That's three rapes and a murder today. -Is it possible the kireseth has damaged Dyan's brain? He is not usually so mad as this.-

-Are you certain? What about Rory?-

Danilo hesitated. -I think you are right. He was always like this. He simply kept most of it out of sight.-

Regis cleared his throat, the most awkward throat clearing Danilo had ever heard. “Dom Ardais, we are ready to leave.”

The only reply was a moan.

“Dom Ardais?” Regis tried again. “Damn it all,” he yelled, losing his temper, “stop that and come on.”

-I think we need to use force,- thought Danilo grimly. -Let's tie a damp handkerchief on both of them.-

-This has got to be the worst duty I've had so far as a guardsman,- thought Regis to Danilo as they wetted extra handkerchiefs and stalked their prey like loose chervines. -This is even worse than breaking up that drunken tavern fight with the twenty brawlers.-

As they approached, they could hear Lord Ardais crooning, “Lick at it, jealous little boy. Lick up every trace of my foster-son's body. Ah!” Dyan threw back his head in ecstatic convulsion.

Distracted by his pleasure, he lost control of the mental grip he was using to force Garin's will. Freed, the boy whipped out his dagger and stabbed hard. He was aiming at Dyan's groin, but Lord Ardais jerked aside with faster reflexes and he knocked Garin sprawling with a brutal punch. Regis and Danilo ran forward.

“You LITTLE FILTH,” Lord Ardais raged. The knife was stuck deep into his right thigh and welling blood rapidly around the blade. He seized a length of bridle lying next to him and quickly tied a tourniquet just above the injury. “You've severed the artery,” he said to Garin, seething.

“No more,” said Regis sternly to Dyan. Danilo moved his own hand surreptitiously to his dagger.

Ignoring them, Dyan's eyes were fixed on the blade protruding from his thigh. “Get me a bandage,” he snapped at his foster-son.

Danilo didn't move.

Reaching down, Lord Ardais drew out the blade with a grunt, wincing briefly from the pain. Then his hazy eyes focused on Garin. Garin smiled back viciously. Dyan's eyes narrowed.

Garin's face went slack and the boy turned, charging for the ravine. Danilo understood what was happening in almost the same instant and threw himself after while Regis lunged for Dyan.

But Garin was too far ahead. Before Danilo could grab him, the boy launched himself right over the edge. Danilo knew he should watch, should trace the boy's fall so they could find his body afterwards, but he couldn't make himself look.

Regis' own dagger was out. Lord Ardais' eyes were fixed, studying the ledge where Garin had taken the last step of his life. He was too distracted to react when Regis slashed the cords of a small bag around his neck with a single motion. Dyan grabbed for it, but Regis had already thrown himself back out of range. Danilo watched, squatting on the edge of the ravine.

A normal telepath would have gone mad or died from having his matrix removed from his throat. But Regis possessed the gift of a natural keeper, and he was holding the stone safely in resonance. Dyan was breathing hard, still sane and alive, waiting to see what Regis would do.

“You think to take me to Thendara and try me for Garin's murder, for the illegal use of the Alton gift.” Lord Ardais made a slight noise somewhere between a laugh and a gulp.

“Correct,” said Regis evenly. “I would advise you not to resist.”

“I would be foolish to attempt to escape with this wound,” said Dyan. “But you'll need to repair the artery for the ride. You two should know basic healing from your laran training.” His face was strained, grimacing with pain. “Save yourself the trouble and return me to Ardais. There will be no trial before the Council.” Dyan managed to smile briefly before the pain caught him again.

“Why not?” exclaimed Regis.

“Because self-defense is always excusable in the law, and Garin just tried to kill me. Even an Alton is allowed to kill an assassin with his laran.”

Dismayed, Regis and Danilo exchanged a look. Lord Ardais was perfectly correct.

-He cannot go free again.- There was a finality in Danilo's thoughts.

Regis opened the bag containing Dyan's matrix and took it out, joining Danilo by the edge of the ravine. He undid the silk wrapper around the jewel. Danilo sent no thought, made no sound. They were in perfect agreement.

With no warning, Regis whipped the stone off the edge, throwing it out as far as he could.

“NO!” Lord Ardais howled.

Regis' grabbed Danilo's arm in case the storm of an enraged Alton gift hit them.

But without his matrix Dyan's laran was weak. After a moment there came a dull shattering noise from the bottom of the ravine. Lord Ardais howled again, and didn't stop. His eyes began to run, his mouth to drool, and he fell twitching to the grass.

He had gone mad.

“Lord of Light,” said Regis as if praying. “He didn't die.” They were paralyzed, staring at what they'd wrought. An insane Dyan, permanently insane, this time.

Danilo took a great breath and raced over to his foster-father. Quickly, he inserted his dagger into the tourniquet and sliced it through, throwing himself aside from the gouting spray of arterial blood.

“Dani,” said Regis. He stopped. Danilo came back and waited. They both stayed silent. It took nearly a minute before Dyan bled into unconsciousness. After five minutes they could tell he had died.

Watching him, they felt too sick to move. Suddenly they were flooded with the urge to get out of there immediately. They threw themselves into their saddles and galloped off down the trail, heading for Thendara.

-oOo-

The story they told the Council was that Lord Dyan had died at the hands of his paramour, Garin, who then leapt off a cliff under kireseth madness. Hastur money, which Regis had access to, shut the mouths of the guardsmen. Neither Regis nor Danilo ever told anyone the truth of what had happened. As for Danvan Hastur, he took the news with equanimity, saying that since Danilo was now Lord Ardais, he could only approve of their 'friendship.' His cynicism made both boys livid, remembering all the trouble Lord Hastur had caused them.

Lord Hastur himself suffered a stroke several months later, and though he survived with most of his wits intact, Regis eased him out of politics.

The new Lord Ardais found an honest steward and put the man in charge of the icy Domain in the Hellers. Danilo spent his days in Thendara by Regis' side, and they repaired what had never been broken, though they had their difficulties at first and much to learn. Despite what had happened with Dyan, they got on with their lives. In fact, they had many long and happy years ahead of them.

But it was nearly a decade before Danilo could nerve himself to return to Ardais, and only after his memory of his time there grew dim.

-oOo-

The End

  



End file.
